


In His Memory

by TheWriterinFlannel



Series: Love A Brotha [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Black!Reader - Freeform, Erik Killmonger Redemption, Explicit Language, Redemption, someone needs to mourn Erik, use of the n-word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterinFlannel/pseuds/TheWriterinFlannel
Summary: Shuri and the reader talk about Erik and his motives.





	In His Memory

T’Challa felt awkward standing outside of the freezing chamber with Shuri. He couldn’t comprehend that someone would love Killmonger so much.

 

“We need to do something for her.”

 

The king jumped at the sound of his sister’s voice; he didn’t know she had been standing there.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We need to make it up to her somehow,” Shuri suggested. T’Challa thought about it; he thought about the repayment he’d want if someone killed Shuri, thought about the pain and sorrow that would take over his every thought. That’s what Synovia was feeling and it was all his fault.

 

Shuri watched as the array of emotions ran over her brothers face. She knew he felt guilty for letting Killmonger die, but they could make it up to Synovia, Shuri was sure of it.

  
  


When you came out of the freezing chamber, T’Challa was gone. Shuri, however, was working on something on the other side of the lab. Not wanting to bother her, you sat in the chair beside the chamber's door.

 

Being in the chamber had drained you emotionally. You seemed to be hit with every memory of Erik, the good and the bad, from the day he popped out of your mama to the day before he went to London.

 

In your sadness, you didn’t see or hear Shuri walking up to you. “Tell me about him,” she asked as she sat on the floor beside you. You smiled weakly, looking down at the princess.

 

“He was a hot mess, minus the hot,” You laughed sadly, “but he was passionate.” You proceeded to tell Shuri about the time when Erik had gotten into a fight at school because one of his classmates said they didn’t find dark skin girls attractive.

 

“He was so upset,” you laughed more wholeheartedly. “He was only four but he was so ready to stand up for an entire community of oppressed people.” Your time for more serious as you continued. “I guess that’s what he was trying to do here, get resources so that he could stand up for Black people all over the world. I still think **how** he went about it was wrong, but his motives were in the right place.

 

“You see, kid, outside of Wakanda, everything is bullshit. Black people all over the world are being punished for simply existing. In the US, black peoples are being killed left and right, by cops, by regular ass white people. Everyone's out to get us, even our own government. We, as a people, are being cornered and exterminated like we’re pests. We’re being appropriated and plagiarized; we don’t get any credit.”

 

Shuri looked sick at the information. She had no idea; in Wakanda, a person her age wasn’t really into politics. With the way you were explaining it, though, black kids in America had to know about politics to stay alive.

 

You placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but the gesture seemed to shock Shuri more. How could you be comforting her as if the information you just provided had a direct effect on her; were you just that desensitized to the violence against your people?

 

Shuri covered your hand with her own before rising from the floor. She choked back some tears, “I’m going to speak to T’Challa, Ayo will show you to your room.” You nodded, rising from your chair on means to follow the bald woman not to far from Shuri.

 

When T’Challa saw Shuri, he did what any good brother would; “Who do I have to fight,” he asked seriously. Shuri looked him in the eyes, “Death.” T’Challa looked at his sister like she’d grown another head. “I have to fight Death?”

 

Shuri sighed, “Listen to me, brother. We have done the worst possible thing; we have killed a man who only wanted to help the brothers and sisters we have neglected for years.”

 

“Shuri, sister, what do you speak of,” T’Challa looked concerned. In the midst of her sentence, Shuri had begun to cry, silent tears streaming down her face.

 

Shuri turned away from her brother, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I speak of Erik. He… His people have been through so much, T’Challa. We’ve killed their hero; we’ve killed the man that was supposed to liberate them.”

 

“Who told you this? Was it his sister? Shuri, you cannot trust what she says; she probably thinks that he did the right thing.”

 

“No, T’challa,” Shuri cut her brother off. “Synovia didn’t try to convince me that Erik was doing the right thing; she actually disagreed with it wholeheartedly. She did, however, tell me what people go through in America, what black people go through.”

 

“And?”

 

“We should do something to help; I know that’s what Nakia wants to do. We can talk with Synovia to see how Wakanda can bring change to the global Black community.”

 

T’Challa looked at his sister; he had never been able to deny her whatever she wanted, and he could see that Shuri really wanted this.

 

“Okay, I’ll talk to her.”


End file.
